


You and Me (And Christmastime)

by seekrest



Series: Merry and Bright [6]
Category: Spider-Man (Movies - Raimi), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man (Video Game 2018), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: (Or is it?), (kind of), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Light Angst, Medical Inaccuracies, Mild Language, Multiverse Shenanigans, One True Pairing, Peter & MJ are destined for each other, Protective Michelle Jones, Protective Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Michelle didn’t believe in fate - in fairy tales, magical happy endings or any of that, the existence of aliens and literal wizards in her world could not even convince her of that.But she did believe in Peter, she believed in her love for him.And even if everything else in the universe seemed circumspect, loving him made her feel like maybe fate existed after all.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Merry and Bright [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559587
Comments: 21
Kudos: 115





	You and Me (And Christmastime)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Machiavelien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Machiavelien/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to the lady who loves Peter & MJ just as much (if not more) than I do. Here’s to love that spans galaxies, multiverses, and franchises ;)

“Hey MJ, it’s me. Tony and I are working on something that’s… taking a little longer than we planned. Can you get the oven on?”

Michelle rolled her eyes as she listened to the voicemail, walking into the apartment as she slipped off her shoes hearing Tony in the background.

“Don’t listen to him, MJ. This is his own damn fault.”

He and Tony argue back and forth for a second, Peter seemingly forgetting that he’s on the call before his voice returns, hearing the exasperation in his voice. 

“You see what I have to deal with? Anyway, be home as soon as I can. Love you.” 

She smiles and deletes the message, tapping out a text to let him know that she made it home before heading to the living room, knowing that him being late likely meant that they’d be ordering in something instead. 

The Christmas lights twinkled, the room almost feeling hazy - the apartment feeling warm and comforting after a long day and a freezing cold walk from the subway.

She smiled, thinking back to what today was - the time of year Peter loved and the small wedding she’d insisted on - knowing that if Peter had his way, they would’ve had a month long celebration.

Michelle was useless in the kitchen, Peter being not much better. And even if he had seemed intent on making something for her to celebrate their anniversary - sappy, romantic little shit that he was - Michelle didn’t really care.

They’d lived through enough in their life - the Blip, his identity being revealed, college across the country - to think that the ‘big’ moments in their life were somehow any more important than the day in and day out of their mundane life together. 

And she loved it, the little things that reminded her of the life she’d created with Peter, catching sight of the third cactus they’d bought in the last month already on its last legs, the faulty blender that they’d never fixed, the dishwasher that never worked but Peter always promised he’d fix - Michelle knowing she’d get around to it before he ever would. 

It may be their five year wedding anniversary technically but Michelle had loved Peter Parker for much longer than that, thinking that even if their wedding had signified a legal agreement, that she’d been committed to him long before.

Michelle didn’t believe in fate - in fairy tales, magical happy endings or any of that other bullshit, the existence of aliens and literal wizards in her world not even convincing her of that.

But she did believe in Peter, she believed in her love for him. And even if everything else in the universe seemed circumspect, loving him made her feel like maybe fate existed after all.

Her phone chimes then, flopping down hard on the couch as she grabs it, a smile on her face at his message. 

**Pete** : Did you turn the oven on or are you on the couch?

Michelle laughs, typing out a quick reply.

 **MJ** : what do you think, bug boy? 

Peter’s reply was quick, like he’d already anticipated her response.

 **Pete** : Five years and you’d think by now, I’d finally have some trust in our house.

 **Pete** : Also Tony says hi and that you should definitely turn on the oven. 

**MJ** : it’s more like eight years technically. and I trust you fine, I trust that you’ll be late. It’s just who you are as a person, Pete. Can’t argue with it.

She snorts.

 **MJ** : Tell Tony I said hi. And I call bullshit. Tony doesn’t trust me with kitchen appliances any more than you do. 

Michelle can see that he’s typing before he stop - waiting for his reply when it finally sends.

 **Pete** : I resent that. I would never lie to you. Besides, arguing with you? I’d never ;)

Michelle goes to reply only to hear something like a beep coming from the kitchen, wondering what it could be since she was the only one home and Peter hadn’t been there since this morning.

It was just like him to surprise her though, remembering their last anniversary, finding him in the kitchen with his apron on - and nothing else - when she’d come home.

She laughed at the memory, remembering Peter’s embarrassment when he realized that she wasn’t alone - her co-worker Amy still being unable to meet her eyes for longer than five minutes.

Michelle hadn’t forgotten their anniversary so much as it all just blended together, a reminder to her that it was less about the so-called important days but more about everything else in between. 

She lifts herself off the couch, typing out a message to Peter.

 **MJ** : I thought you said you were going to be late.

She takes a few tentative steps towards the kitchen, wondering how the hell he’d hidden from her since it wasn’t that big only to be surprised when turned - seeing no one and nothing there.

Her phone buzzes, a message she’d already expected when she glances at it.

 **Pete** : Yeah this thing is taking longer than I expected. Tony says another fifteen minutes, twenty tops. 

Michelle glances up, seeing the kitchen in front of her shimmer slightly - taking a step back even if there’s something drawing her forward. Her phone buzzes again, looking down.

 **Pete** : Why? Is everything okay?

Michelle doesn’t get the chance to answer, hearing a voice calling out to her - so different and yet so unbelievably similar to…

_“MJ!”_

Michelle takes another step back, thinking that this was the kind of bullshit she stayed away from only for her phone to vibrate before its forced out of her hand - seemingly disappearing into nothing as sparks of electricity shimmer in the middle of her kitchen.

“Oh fuck no.” Michelle takes another step only for a force stronger than she could fight against pulls her closer - her feet dragging forwards even as she tries to grab onto something to hold her.

There’s something drawing her, an energy or a portal - whatever the hell it is, stronger than anything she’s ever felt before.

She lurches forward, her failed attempts at grabbing at something gone and flies head first - her last thoughts going to Peter before she’s sent into the dark.

* * *

Michelle is aware that she’s in New York but also immediately recognizes that it’s not _her_ New York. 

She’d been thrown forward, to God knows where in what should’ve been her kitchen - only to suddenly appear somewhere in Times Square, people milling about as if there was nothing wrong. 

_Am I dreaming?_ Michelle thinks, wondering if she’d just passed out on the couch as soon as she got home, reaching for her cell phone in her pocket only to pause - remembering that it had gotten sucked into whatever invisible vortex she’d been pulled through. 

_Perfect_.

Michelle glances around, trying to catch her bearings. It’s midday, she can see that much and the same season - the snow on the ground and the chill in the air causing her to shiver.

Michelle glances down, seeing that she’s in… clothes that aren’t hers, dressed appropriately enough. 

She doesn’t have her cell phone, has a sense she can’t explain to know that she’s not in her New York.

And yet she can’t help but feel drawn towards… something, just like the invisible force she’d felt in her kitchen not much longer than before, pulling her towards something that she can’t explain. 

She walks forward and then she sees it, a massive billboard advertising some kind of theater thing. Michelle doesn’t recognize the red-headed actress, nor the production - remembering how her and Peter appreciated the art form in theory but couldn’t take themselves seriously enough to hold back the laughter as they listened in on a neighborhood show. 

But there was something about her that Michelle immediately recognized, a kind of kinship that made her feel oddly familiar, even if she wasn’t sure what it was.

She’s so entranced by it, her mind searching for why and how she feels this way only to be run into by someone - the force of it almost making her stumble over if not for the strong arms that catch her. 

Michelle looks up and immediately sees blue eyes, brown hair parted to the side and a worried expression on their face - holding her until they help her stand upright, the apology written all over their face before they say a word. 

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Michelle’s immediately taken off-guard, eyes narrowing as she studies him. He has a dimpled chin, eyes that are pierced right through her - older than her by a few years. 

And yet as sure as she knows anything - a feeling that’s unexplainable to her - Michelle knows him, something that she can’t quite put her finger on. 

“Yeah,” she finally says, recovering as she realizes that she hasn’t said a word to him, “Yeah, I”m fine. Sorry for just standing there. I didn’t—”

But then she pauses, seeing the look on his face - a look that she recognizes from when it’s been on someone else’s face. 

It’s the look that Peter gets when his Peter tingle is acting up, something that he’s begrudgingly accepted.

Yet instead of looking around for some unforeseen danger, the man in front of her is immediately intrigued - searching her face as if he was trying to find an answer for something when he didn’t know the question.

“Do I--Do I know you?”

 _I could ask the same thing_ , Michelle thinks - realizing he was still holding her in his arms just as he did, backing up slightly as he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, sorry, I know that sounds like a line or something.”

“No,” Michelle shakes her head, “It doesn’t.” Her voice is quiet and yet she’s sure that he can hear it, seeing the way his eyes perked up as if she’d shouted at him above the city noise. 

“I’m uh, I’m Peter.” He extends out a hand, Michelle freezing before catching herself, forcing a hand out and a smile as she shakes his hand. But he’d seemingly caught on the shudder, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. I’m--” Michelle opens her mouth, trying to explain only to realize that it sounds crazy - knowing that she doesn’t have to explain herself to a perfect stranger.

“I’m Michelle. I think… I think I’m lost.” She can hear how unsure she sounds, so unlike herself and yet she feels discombobulated, like she’s out of sync with the rest of the world and trying to play catch up.

Peter - the one in front of her - just smiled at her before saying, “I think I can help with that. I mean, I know the city really well.”

He smiles wider, as if he’d said some private joke, Michelle feeling more and more intrigued. There was just something about him, something that she couldn’t put a finger on that reminded her so much of her Peter - her Peter - that she couldn’t really explain in any way that can make sense. 

She finds herself trying to anyway, asking, “So you’re from here?”

He nods. “Yeah, born and raised. Well,” he shrugs, “Queens really.”

Michelle raises her eyebrows, the question brewing on her lips - only to feel that pull again, seeing a shimmer to the right of her - turning to face it a half-second after Peter does.

She watches as he tenses, seeing that look again - this time knowing that there’s some kind of danger, his eyes frantic and looking back at her. 

“We should go. This is gonna sound crazy but trust me.”

Michelle wants to - inexplicably she wants to follow him - but finds herself rooted in the same place, feeling herself start to be pulled in the opposite direction. 

“I--”

Before she gets the chance to say anything, she feels it again - even stronger than before - turning to where this thing was, a cold breeze passing through that makes Peter shiver. 

“We should really go.” His voice is urgent, the tension so thick in it that Michelle wants to listen.

It doesn’t make any sense, she doesn’t know him at all and yet she wants to follow after him - feeling like he’s so familiar to her and not just because he shares a name with her husband. 

“I think I am.” Michelle says without knowing too, feeling the pull once then being flung backwards - seeing Peter’s wide-eyed expression, hand extended. 

It happens so quickly, so fast that Michelle can’t really explain what she saw. 

Because one moment she’s in front of Peter, his hand extended towards her to try and keep her in place. 

And then the next she’s thrown backwards, seeing something that almost looks like a web follow after her only to be cut off - wondering if she was imagining things as she flung into the dark. 

* * *

The next time she opens her eyes, Michelle’s in a diner. 

It looks like any number of mom and pop shops in the city but just as before, Michelle is immediately aware that she’s in New York but not hers, wondering what the hell was in her coffee that morning when the bell rings, her attention immediately being distracted by what - or who - walks in.

He walks with purpose, even if there’s a slight pep in his step - walking forward with a smile on his face. 

Michelle doesn’t know if it’s the faded green plaid shirt, something about the hair or the deep hazel eyes but she recognizes it - the same feeling she’d felt not even three seconds before.

She knows this man, watching in mild amusement as he stops in his tracks - looking at her with a curious expression.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” Michelle answers, a small smile on her face as he sizes her up just as she does. 

“You uh, you waiting for someone?” He asks, Michelle tilting her head as she takes him in.

It’s almost uncanny, a sense of immediate knowing that there’s something about the man in front of her that sets her at ease, even as she smirks at him - feeling playful even if she should be trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Maybe this was all a dream, nothing setting off any alarms to indicate that it was a nightmare aside from the sudden stops and starts.

Yet there was something else in the back of her mind telling her that this was real, even if she couldn’t quite understand it. 

“Why?” She asks him, seeing the way his eyes light up as she does. “Who wants to know?”

He laughs, his smile wide on his face as he nods towards the door. “Uh well, I usually sit here with my…” 

The smile on his face falls slightly, Michelle’s own eyebrows furrowing as he continued. “An old friend and I always sit here.”

Michelle studies him for a second before leaning back, smiling and saying, “Didn’t know a place like this took reservations.”

They could for all she knew, Michelle didn’t know where the hell she was or what was going on.

But it’s clear that she’d made the right call when he smiles again, laughing as he said, “No they uh, they don’t.”

He stares at her for a beat, Michelle smiling as he does before he stops himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I--” 

Michelle knows the words he’s going to ask before he says them, a sinking feeling in her stomach that something was happening that she didn’t know how to explain. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” 

Michelle shakes her head. “No, I don’t think you do.” 

He looks confused at that but Michelle pushes forward, extending out her hand. “I’m Michelle.” 

“Peter.” 

There it is. A second time. It’s a coincidence, it had to be. But it’s enough that Michelle freezes long enough as she shakes his hand that he’s immediately aware of it, eyebrows furrowing as if something was wrong, as if something wasn’t right, as if ---

Just as quickly as she’d arrived she can feel herself already leaving, a shimmer to her right once more as Peter - this Peter, a _second_ Peter - looked alarmed, looking towards nothing and yet feeling as if something was there, his hand still firm in hers. 

“Are you okay? I-- I don’t know how to explain this.”

“What’s your last name?” She blurts out, already feeling the familiar pull towards whatever it is but needing to get this out, needing to confirm something that she’d been thinking since the first time she’d done this.

Something that doesn’t make any kind of sense and yet feeling as sure as she knew anything that it was the truth. 

That she was traveling through space or time or something - Michelle picking up some long almost forgotten memory of something Peter had mentioned years ago, at the idea of the multiverse. 

It isn’t rational, it doesn’t make any kind of sense - for some kind of portal thing to open up in the middle of her fucking kitchen and yet here she is, being pulled away towards something as Peter’s eyes widen, shaking his head.

“Something’s-- we need to go.”

“What’s your last name? Please.” Michelle asks, knowing she’s seconds away from being lurched out of his hands - feeling his grip tighten as he answers and confirms something that’s completely impossible. 

“Parker. It’s Peter, Peter Parker.” 

But before she gets the chance to answer she’s gone - still feeling the ghost of his hands in hers as she’s moved away. 

* * *

Michelle doesn’t want to open her eyes, feeling the chill in the air. She can hear a Christmas song playing in the background, Carol of the Bells from the sound of it - only hoping her eyes when someone brushes past her, opening them to find… staring at a graveyard. 

It’s night time. It’s New York.

But it’s not _her_ New York. 

But if this… thing, this whatever was happening is right - she’s about to find herself another Peter - Peter Parker - and Michelle tries to compose herself as she prepares for it. 

She knew from what Peter had mentioned from the things he did with the remaining Avengers and from living in a world that had been invaded from fucking aliens, from being blipped out of existence for seemingly no other reason than some genocidal maniac taking it too far with Malthusian economics. 

But this was… beyond her, something that she didn’t understand and was quickly getting tired of, thinking back to her own Peter and what the hell he was thinking or how long she’d been gone. 

She doesn’t get the chance to dwell on it too much, seeing a figure walking towards her - or more toward the entrance of the graveyard - knowing immediately from the tall and lanky frame, from the hunched shoulders and messy brown hair peeking out under his hoodie that this is who she had been sent for. 

And that’s the only thing Michelle can think - that she’s being sent here, wherever here is - the multiverse, a realistic lucid stress-induced dream - for a purpose, though for what, she doesn’t know. 

He seems aware that she’s there but doesn’t go to stop, walking towards her then moving past - Michelle turning to watch him with an almost incredulous stare. 

She knows it in her gut, he’s who she’s meant to see - but he doesn’t even look twice at her, too focused on moving forward.

“Hey.” She calls out, hedging her bets - knowing that if this really is Peter Parker, or some version of him, that he was too polite to ignore someone outright.

She’s proven right, as Michelle knew she would be, watching as he stops and turns around.

Michelle’s taken aback by the grief in his eyes, seeing the tears in them as he looks back at her, a small head nod in her direction.

“Sorry, I-- I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

He sniffs, staring at her for a second before turning - seemingly getting the chance to really look at her. 

“Yeah you did. You need something?”

His tone isn’t unkind but it’s short, Michelle’s heart aching for the sadness she can feel just radiating off of him, wondering what had happened in this world that the Peter Parker she knew - and Michelle knew that this was Peter Parker - could be so down considering all the traumas she knew he’d faced.

“No. I just wanted to see, if you were alright.” Michelle replies, biting her lip as he looks at her - watching as he studies her, glancing at her up and down. 

“Is that a trick question?” He asks, head almost tilted towards the cemetery - as if Michelle couldn’t see the way his eyes glistened. 

She shakes her head, knowing she’s ruining this thing - whatever this was - but continues anyway as she says, “No, I’m sorry. You look like you needed a friend.”

He stares for a beat before breaking out into an almost twisted smile, baffled and yet immediately intrigued - a spark of the Peter she knew shooting across his face even if he looked so different. 

They all had, they had all been different. And yet this was Peter, she knew it even if he never said it. 

“Yeah well, friends and I don’t mix well.”

Michelle frowns, watching as his shoulders sag. “Sorry, I know it’s Christmas. Not really in the holiday mood.” 

“It’s okay. Neither am I usually. My husband’s the festive one. I’m more like the grinch.” He snorts, seeing the makings of a genuine almost smile on his face. 

“You don’t look like a grinch.” 

Michelle shrugs, feeling like she’d made a small win. “We come in all sizes.” 

He shifts his weight back and forth, almost as if he was debating something but Michelle beats him to it, putting her hand out - a repeat of her last encounter but knowing this time exactly what she was doing. 

“I’m Michelle. But you can call me MJ.” She introduces herself as, thinking this would spark some kind of recognition in his eyes. 

She’s genuinely surprised that it doesn’t, only seeing the smirk on his face as he takes his hand out of his pocket and shakes her hand, saying, “Hey Michelle but also MJ. I’m Peter.” 

“I know.” She whispers, so low that no normal person can hear. But he isn’t normal and she knows, seeing the way his head snaps up as she drops her hand.

“What?”

Michelle feels it then, closing her eyes as she sighs. 

“It’s hard to explain.” 

But Peter - it’s Peter, _another_ Peter, a sad one, sadder than she’s ever seen - looks alarmed, not just at her revelation that she knew who he was though she’s sure he’s never met or seen her before but at the shimmer, seeing it.

“You okay? We uh, we should--”

“I don’t know how to say this without sounding crazy but,” Michelle leans forward, taking his hand in hers as she stares into his brown eyes - eyes filled with so much sadness and yet are so similar to the brown eyes she’s fallen in love with and says, “You’re going to be okay.”

He looks taken aback by that, surprised and shocked and yet Michelle immediately sees that he accepts it, watching as something clicks into place as he shakes his head. 

“I don’t-- how did you--”

But Michelle just smiles, not fighting the pull this time - letting go of his hand. 

“Bye Peter.” 

She’s gone before she even hears his reply. 

* * *

“MJ!”

“MJ, answer me.” 

“Michelle, are you--- oh my God. Oh my God, Tony!” 

Michelle feels like she has a splitting headache, wincing as she feels someone’s hands on her forehead - softly brushing the hair back.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m right here. You’re okay.” 

Michelle knows that voice, immediately snapping her eyes open then regretting it - closing it as she moans. 

“What happened?”

Peter sighs, the relief so clear in his voice even if Michelle can tell there’s a twinge of worry in it.

“You’re okay, MJ. That’s all that matters. I’m here.” 

Michelle opens her eyes and is immediately at peace - seeing Peter, _her_ Peter, kneeled down in front of her, one hand to her forehead and another holding her hand. 

She goes to sit up, only to feel another strong arm gently pushing her down, looking up to see Tony with a similarly worded expression.

“Tony? What the-- what’s going on?”

He shares a glance with Peter, Michelle looking back at the two of them - the guilt on Peter’s face so clear that Michelle immediately thinks something is wrong. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?” She sits up as best as she can, hearing Tony’s sharp laughter as Peter scowls.

“MJ, don’t--”

“I told you, kid. She’s just like you, doesn’t give a damn about anything else but making sure everyone else is okay.” 

Michelle glances to Tony but then to Peter, searching his face and then his body for any injuries, hearing Peter’s sigh.

“I’m fine, MJ. I promise.” He moves his hand to her face, running his thumb across her cheek.

“I was just worried. About _you_.”

“What happened?” Michelle asks again, feeling her voice sound stronger as Peter’s expression falls. 

“The oven, it was on all day. I--” Peter grimaces, “I must’ve turned it on this morning when I was checking it, to make sure that everything would be perfect for tonight.”

Michelle just stares blankly at him, Peter’s expression changing from guilt to worry. “You remember what tonight is right? Oh God, Tony is she--”

“Yes, Pete our anniversary. I’m fine, I’m just...” He brings a hand down, Michelle looking to Tony and seeing the curious look on his face as she takes in her surroundings. 

Michelle is on the couch of their apartment, the windows open and a whirring sound in the background - almost as if the place was being fumigated, reminding her of when the neighbors had had some kind of insect infestation, something she’d teased Peter about relentless when it happened. 

“The oven was on? So what I… passed out or something?” 

Tony nodded. “Yeah kid, the carbon monoxide levels in here were insane. It’s a little bit of a miracle that you didn’t hit your head on anything.”

Michelle closes her eyes, the headache she has just intensifying as she takes in this information, feeling Peter’s hand on her shoulder. 

_Was it all a dream then? A hallucination?_ Michelle thinks.

And yet it felt so real, tangible in a way that felt just as solid as the pressure of Peter’s hand on her shoulder. 

But Michelle thinks that if she were to bring it up, to try and explain what it was that it would just lead to more worry from Peter, thinking that something was seriously wrong with her when aside from the headache - she felt fine. 

Her own thoughts are confirmed with Peter’s next words, hearing the slight panic in them. 

“We should really get you out of here. Tony’s got some machine working but I didn’t want to move you too much and now I’m thinking--”

Michelle opens her eyes, laughing slightly as she shakes her head. 

“I’m fine, Pete. Really.”

Peter searches her face for the lie but finds none, nodding his head slowly as she smiles.

“Happy anniversary.” 

Peter laughs, bringing a hand to her face again. “Yeah, this’ll be one you won’t forget anytime soon huh?” 

Tony laughs in the background, motioning for them to move.

“It’ll be a story to tell the kids but Peter’s right, MJ.” He goes to help her stand, Peter also helping her as he continues, “We should really head out. Let this little thing do it’s magic.”

Michelle stands, feeling a little wobbly as she does but Peter’s strong arms wrap around her, holding her upright. 

“You okay?” 

The smile on his face is wide, even if the concern in his eyes is still so clear - Michelle wanting to reassure him but knowing that there was nothing she could say that would make any kind of sense.

She’d thought that maybe she had taken some kind of trip through the multiverse, but now wondered if maybe she’d just allowed some part of Peter’s stories to burrow themselves deep into her subconscious, seemingly passing out from carbon monoxide poisoning the minute she’d walked into the apartment.

Yet there was a part of Michelle - a part that she couldn’t explain, a part of her that didn’t want to explain - that she what she experienced was real. Something that was wild and impossible and yet felt so utterly right.

Peter was so intent on celebrating the big moments in their lives, just as much as Michelle was content to live in the small ones - wondering if maybe this little trip through the universe or just an overactive subconscious was confirming something for her that she hadn’t even realized she needed to know. 

That maybe the world around them was crazy and wild, that maybe there things she couldn’t explain. That even if she didn’t believe in fate - in fairy tales, magical happy endings or any of that other bullshit, that she believed in Peter and her love for him. 

Michelle smiles, bringing him close as she whispers. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” 

She kisses him, still feeling a little light-headed and unsteady on her feet. But Peter holds her in place, hearing Tony shuffle away from them - giving them some privacy as Peter’s arms wrap around her. 

She leans back, breaking the kiss - watching as Peter’s eyes open and he stared back at her. 

“What was that for?”

Michelle smiled once more, a sense of belonging with the man that she’d married - with the man she’d loved and would love across galaxies and universes, in good times and bad, in big moments and small.

She loved him so much that she couldn’t even really express it, a feeling in her soul, in her bones, in her skin. 

She couldn’t make sense of what the hell she’d just been through - if she’d really been through anything at all - but Michelle was sure of one thing.

That she believed that no matter what Peter was out there, what universe they were in - that maybe fate did exist. 

And her fate would always be tied to him. 

“Because I love you, Peter Parker.”

She leans in, seeing the smile on his face.

“And that’s reason enough.” 


End file.
